[episode 1.10]

December 2, 2009

"SO, IS TEACHING YOUR FUTURE?"

I glanced away from the exhibit on teaching and stiffened at the sight of the politely smiling new history teacher, Mr. Saltzman. Apparently, he'd started a couple days ago and had already impressed Jeremy (who was now working away at an extra credit assignment for the teacher) and Jenna (who clearly was lusting after the man).

All of it had left me feeling a tad bit uncomfortable.

"Hey. Mr. Saltzman, right?" I asked, reaching out a hand to him. He nodded and took my hand. "Sorry I haven't been able to chat with you yet. I know I rushed out of class pretty quickly today."

His face opened up with a calming smile. "No worries. We can chat before class tomorrow. You have a couple quizzes to make up from your absences the last couple weeks."

I winced. "Yeah, that works."

He nodded and then motioned back to the exhibit. "So, teaching?"

"If this is a safe space, Mr. Saltzman, I have no idea." I let out a melodramatic sigh and looked around at the many exhibits. Half-joking, I told him, "If you have any ideas for my future, I'm setting up a suggestion box on my locker."

"Well, let's talk tomorrow, and we can see if we can come up with anything."

"Really? You'd talk with me about that?"

He nodded and then motioned back to the exhibit with an amused smile. "Of course. Mentoring is a big part of being a teacher, after all."

I looked back at the exhibit and tried to see if I could picture myself in that sort of role. Teaching students? Mentoring them? Would I be good at that? Somehow I struggled to see myself doing it.

But maybe this Mr. Saltzman could help me figure out my life, in the same way he'd been helping Jeremy figure out his.

**********

[episode 1.11]

December 3, 2009

MY CONVERSATION WITH JENNA the other day combined with telling Bonnie the truth about vampires had allowed me to regain a bit of my peace, so I was back to researching the Whitmores again the day after the Finding Your Future school event.

Enzo had been very vocal about his disapproval of this though, and every time I tried to do any research on them, he'd try to convince me to stop. Today was no different.

"We'll find another way to free me, Margot. Give this up, please," he begged. "Every time you start to look into that rotten family, your hands shake."

"I'm fine," I said, but my pinched voice revealed my frustration.

Jeremy glanced up from this homework and joked, "What's the old bloodsucker worried about now?"

"I am not old," Enzo grumbled.

I chuckled at his pouting and said, "I'm researching the Whitmores. They're somehow connected to the people who've imprisoned him." Jeremy leaned over to look at the Wikipedia page I was reading. "Also, Enzo's offended that you called him old."

"I am not—"

"He'll have to suck it up," he said, "and to let you make your own decisions. I mean, that's what worked for me. It wasn't Elena's 'I-know-best' charade that helped me get better. It was you giving me the space to figure things out on my own."

"That's honestly so sweet, Remy."

"Gross. Are you crying?" he asked, stiffening when I forced him into a hug. "You're going to get my homework all snotty."

"Shut up. I need this."

"This is weird."

"Shh, let me bask in the moment."

"Fine."

Hardly half a second of basking went by before we both heard a firm knock in the front door. I pulled back from him and glanced at Enzo. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he moved his gaze to the door. It was clear he didn't recognize whoever was there.

I hurried to answer it, and my fears blossomed anew at the stricken look on Sheriff Forbes' face when I finally pulled the door around.

"Hello, Margot. Is Jenna home?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's just — she's in the shower. I'll go get her," I said and opened the door wider.

Jeremy came up behind me and stared curiously at Sheriff Forbes. "What's going on?"

She swallowed and glanced toward the stairs, where she knew the bathrooms were. "I think it's best if I wait until your guardian is present."

I didn't waste any more time with that and sprinted up the stairs. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

I flung open Elena's bedroom door and immediately knew who this ominous visit was about. My screams echoed through the house.

Elena was gone.

**********

ONCE ENZO AND JENNA jointly calmed me down, Sheriff Forbes sat us all down in the living room to let us know that they'd found Elena's car overturned and abandoned on the road early that morning. I was hysterical, especially when my frantic texts to Elena's phone were met with only silence.

Jenna kept an arm wrapped around each of us as we spoke with Sheriff Forbes. She asked us a series of questions about who we thought might try to harm her, but I had no idea. Maybe Damon? But even then, I had a feeling Stefan would know if that had happened. Wouldn't he taunt Stefan with it? Hang it over his head?

Once Sheriff Forbes left, I called Stefan, and he made it to our house in under ten minutes.

"Hey," he said when I let him in. "What's going on? You said Elena's missing?"

More tears blubbered out of me. "Yeah, she never made it home last night, and they found her car flipped early this morning. She's gone."

His eyes hardened. "And you haven't heard from her?"

"I've tried texting her, but nothing," I said, starting to pace through the entryway while Stefan's features tightened.

"She left her necklace at my house last night and bolted," he said. Something about the way he refused to meet my eyes made me believe there was something he was holding back from me.

I paused my pacing and stared at him cautiously. "Is it Damon?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's possible, but it's hard to guess with him sometimes. Damon is unpredictable."

"This isn't the lottery, Stefan! This is my sister's life on the line!"

"I know," he stressed.

"I'm calling her." I pulled my phone from my pocket again and immediately found her contact. "Please pick up."

On the third ring, the line connected unexpectedly, and I nearly sobbed in relief. "Elena, oh my god! Are you okay?"

"Oh, if it isn't my least favorite Gilbert," Damon taunted.

Stefan's head snapped up. His eyes blazed with anger.

"Damon, please, she's my little sister. Whatever you've done, please just bring her home."

"You know, as much as I enjoy the sound of you begging, Gilbert," he mocked, "I'm busy, and until you and Stefan tell me why you've been snooping around for someone named Enzo, I think I'll satisfy my curiosity with your sister instead."

I barely had time to react before Stefan wrenched the phone from my hand. He threatened, "Damon, if you so much as hurt a single hair on her head—"

Stefan's threat was apparently cut short by whatever stupid remark Damon threw back at him. When Stefan finally stared down at my blank screen in disbelief, I realized that his brother had hung up on him.

"Did he just—?"

"I'm going to kill him."

"Can I join?" I asked seriously.

Stefan didn't give me a response as he stormed right back out the front door. "Stay here!" he called over his shoulder. "I'm going to handle this."

He was out of his mind if he thought I was going to sit back and do nothing.

I didn't chase after him, not caring much to know whatever lead he was chasing. I had a better idea.

If I could find Enzo, all of my problems would be solved. I mean, hadn't Damon explicitly told me that this was at least in part related to us keeping secrets about Enzo? If I had Enzo, it would likely draw Damon back to Mystic Falls from wherever he took Elena, or at the very least Enzo could help me find her.

Racing up to my room, I searched my closet floor for the medical book with notes on Enzo's torture again, hoping that if I reread it, I might find some clue I missed to his whereabouts. Underneath a pile of clean clothes I'd been too tired to put away the week before, I found the textbook.

And I found the Manila folder with my name on it.

"Darling, what are you doing?" Enzo asked warily when I dragged both the folder and the book out of my closet.

Ignoring him because I knew he would only try to dissuade me, I set the text aside and flipped open the folder before I could think better of it. Nausea rose in my throat instantly.

The folder contained one single piece of paper — a printed copy of a photo Cale had taken of us at Whitmore House when we went there on a date once. The large, white house loomed behind us, just reeking of old money and privilege, and it truly should have been a beautiful historical house, if not for the monsters it belonged to. I hated seeing his hand on my hip and his body pressed close to mine.

"Oh, darling. I'm so sorry."

I bit down on my lip to stop it from quivering and flipped over the picture to stop myself from having to look at Cale any longer. My breath stole from my lungs immediately at the words scrawled there in Cale's clean handwriting.

Come back to me, and we can keep him as a pet in our basement for the rest of our lives.

I choked back tears and smiled at Enzo as well as I could. "I know where you are, Enzo," I said, "and I'm coming for you."